Somewhere out in the darkness, a phoenix was singing in a way Harry had never heard before: a stricken lament of terrible beauty. And Harry felt, as he had felt about phoenix song before, that the music was inside him, not without: It was his own grief turned magically to song.
J. K. RowlingWhat do we want to be prefects for?โ said George, looking revolted at the very idea. โItโd take all the fun out of life.
J. K. RowlingFailure, failure is so important, it doesnโt get spoken about enough, we speak about success all the time.
J. K. RowlingCuriosity is not a sin.... But we should exercise caution with our curiosity... yes, indeed.
J. K. RowlingHe accused me of being Dumbledore's man through and through." "How very rude of him." "I told him I was." Dumbledore opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again. Fawkes the phoenix let out a low, soft, musical cry. To Harry's intense embarrassment, he suddenly realized that Dumbledore's bright blue eyes looked rather watery, and stared hastily at his own knee. When Dumbledore spoke, however, his voice was quite steady. "I am very touched, Harry.
J. K. Rowling